


Rough Me Up

by mumsywrites



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Interrogation, Light Bondage, M/M, Past Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Post-Time Skip, Power Play, azure moon route most likely, mention of Dead Ferdinand, pow!Sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumsywrites/pseuds/mumsywrites
Summary: The war surely had its fair share of surprises, But this one:Sylvain José Gautier. Blindfolded, gagged, and tied to a chair in Hubert’s quarters.This was one Hubert enjoyed the most. And he would do anything to get even the tiniest bit of information out of Sylvain.For #SylvbertWeekend (Day 3 - Secrets)
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41
Collections: Sylvbert Weekend 2020





	Rough Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic months ago and when I heard about #Sylvbertweekend, I wanted to finish it for the event. So I'm kinda shoving it into any of the prompts so I can justify to post it, haha.   
> Enjoy!!

It would have to do.

After the devastating loss at Gronder to that beast of a prince, Hubert needed something to quell the anguish of his Emperor. He wasn’t quite sure, however, if this would help.

Sylvain José Gautier.

Blindfolded, gagged, and tied to a chair in Hubert’s quarters. His prisoner of war. A consolation prize, if you will, for losing to the Kingdom’s Army, if they could even be called that. But they sure wielded the power of an army, toppling both the Alliance and Imperial forces, unfortunately.

As he was gathering himself and the other surviving soldiers from the battlefield, he found Sylvain: off his horse, tending to an injury, with no allies around. He had always been an obnoxious fool back at the Academy, but Hubert knew his intellect ran deep. He would make a good hostage, or at least a good source of information. Having him would give Her Majesty the upper hand on the Kingdom’s next moves, their battle strategies, and perhaps even their supply chain. Cut them off there, and their sad excuse of an army would wither to nothing. The idea brought a rare sense of giddy excitement to Hubert.

He glanced over his captive, completed stripped of his armor, down only to his small clothes, thin fabric stretching over firm muscles. What seemed to disturb Hubert, however, was Sylvain’s lack of resistance. If anything, he seemed content to be tied up in such a manner. Perverted fool; nothing much had changed in five years, it seemed.

Hubert took a seat at the edge of his bed and stared straight into the folds of fabric that covered Gautier’s eyes. “You seem comfortable…”

Sylvain gave a low laugh and attempted to mumble something through the binding of the gag.

“If we are to converse, I suppose I should remove that.” He leaned forward, enough to smell the musk of cologne mixed with dirt, sweat, and blood. It filled Hubert’s lungs, but he tried to suppress the sudden surge in his chest. Odd that he would react in such a way. Regardless, he pulled at the tie and let the gag fall to the floor.

Sylvain smirked and tilted his head up. “Didn’t take you for the kinky type, but I guess I never paid too much attention to you. A pity, honestly.”

“Quiet,” Hubert spat, noticing the cracks along Sylvain’s lips. “It is a lucky coincidence that you are still among the living.”

“I don’t think luck has anything to do with it, Hubes.”

Hubert winced at the name; it was even worse than Dorothea’s insistence on calling him Hubie. “And why do you say that?”

“You made the logical assumption that I hold a seat of high command among the Kingdom army, found me in a moment of vulnerability - my leg still hurts, not gonna lie - and decided to capture me to get whatever information out of me that you possibly could. I mean, come on, it’s obvious.”

“Obvious,” Hubert said, with a bite to his voice. “Perhaps it is.” He stood up and placed his hands on Sylvain’s shoulders. He swallowed down the whine that dared to rise in his throat. They firm and muscular, and Hubert quite enjoyed touching them, running his fingers through the dips and curves of his skin. “But how do you suggest I get this information out of you?”

Sylvain laughed and leaned his head to the side, letting his dark ginger hair brush against the exposed skin of Hubert’s wrist. The sensation raised the hairs up his arms. And that color…

“I’ve got a few ideas, Hubie-boy. All tied up, blindfolded, completely at your mercy. It’s kinda hot. Honestly, I’m extremely curious what you have in store for me.”

Hubert groaned, the upper corner of his lip twitching. Of course a man like Sylvain would find this to be a pleasurable situation. He could remember the days in the Academy, particularly those nights where he spent the late night hours awake, trying his best to plot for Lady Edelgard, to secure her future as Emperor. And then the cries and moans from Sylvain’s room would echo down the hall. Almost every night, a different voice, mostly a woman’s, sometimes a man’s, crying out his name in ecstasy. The whole dormitory floor would be filled with the sound of Sylvain’s nightly endeavors, and they never ceased to distract Hubert from his work. Unfortunately.

Hubert shut his eyes tight, trying to smother those memories of how he dealt with his…distractions. Right now, he had a hostage to attend to, one who perhaps would give out information if he received certain favors. In the privacy of his room, Hubert was willing to do anything to advance Her Majesty’s dream.

“As am I,” he said, trailing his fingers down Sylvain’s arms, crossing his hand over to his chest, and letting it travel down abs to eventually hover over his groin. Perhaps he enjoyed that too much. “What act will get you to speak?”

Sylvain twitched in his chair and smirked. “You won’t know until you try…”

Hubert snatched his hand away and took a seat at the edge of his bed and watched as Sylvain deflating from his vanishing touch.

“Seriously? I got so excited for a moment there.”

“Not nearly excited enough.”

Sylvain laughed and leaned forward, the ropes across his chest allowing his muscles to bulge over, a sight Hubert drank up.

“So you think you had a good grip there, huh? Try me.”

“Will you talk?”

Sylvain smacked his lips together and whined, sitting back and taking Hubert’s pleasurable view away. “You know, I don’t think I can. At least not all that well. I’m quite parched.”

“I noticed. Your lips are quite chapped.”

“Checking out my lips, huh? Can I, perhaps, have some water?” Sylvain pursed his dry lips, smacking them together while making dry, kissing sounds.

Hubert grimaced. The goblet sat at the edge of his desk, filled from earlier, before he even brought Sylvain in. He would have to administer it to Sylvain, and run the risk of the water dripping down his chin, soaking the pale linen over his body. Suddenly, the room grew quite hot, and Hubert had to talk himself down from his distractions of his mind.

He walked the goblet over to Sylvain and brought the edge of it to his lips, but they wouldn’t budge open and a trickle spilled down the front of his undershirt, soaking it through until it stuck tighter to his firm muscles underneath.

“I’m gonna need more help than that, Hubie.” A slick smile spread across Sylvain’s lips. And Hubert obliged, though he couldn’t understand why. He was lauded for his steely resolve, but other forces were at hand. He took a large sip of the water and held it within his mouth. Slowly, he settled down on Sylvain’s lap and pressed their lips together. Sylvain’s tongue slipped through and lapped up the water, giving a teasing lick against Hubert’s tongue.

He should have anticipated that, but Hubert sputtered, some of the water now slipping down his throat as he started to cough, hastily rising from the seat while Sylvain laughed.

“That was nice,” he said, licking his lips. “Didn’t get much, though. Try a different method, maybe?”

“Absolutely not,” Hubert yelled, tossing the still filled goblet at Sylvain, staining his entire front with water. Hubert stared, thankful for the blindfold so Sylvain wouldn’t make a quip about the heat rising in his cheeks. Every detail of his body was perfected framed by the damp fabric, wet and tight against his body.

Hubert shuddered in a breath, trying to bring himself back to reality; perhaps it was time to move on with the interrogation.

“Ouch.” Sylvain’s lips protruded in an overly exaggerated pout. “That wasn’t very nice. Do you treat all your ginger paramours this way?”

Hubert’s lip twitched as he stood above Sylvain, unsatisfied that his foreboding figure did little to intimidate a man wearing a blindfold. Instead, he reached for his jaw, his thumb slipping into Sylvain’s mouth, just over his teeth. “What was that?”

Sylvain laughed, his tongue lapping up against Hubert’s gloves. “I know how you like to get off on red hair.”

With little hesitation, Hubert went for his throat, squeezing tight. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

Sylvain swallowed hard, enough to loosen the grip Hubert had on his him. “It was a shame to see him fall at Myrddin.”

Hubert was shaking, willing his hand to grip tighter, but Sylvain kept talking through the hold, his muscles besting Hubert’s fingers each time.

“Goddess, was his hair beautiful. Gloriously long, ginger tresses. What a sight he was to behold. A pity that he was bested so easily by someone like Felix. But, to be fair, the guy’s the best swordsman in all of Fódlan, as you saw for yourself at Gronder. But the way Ferdinand’s hair glistened in the sunlight, waves of honeyed red, stained with his own blood…”

Hubert’s eyes flashed wide and suddenly his grip became much tighter, enough to stop Sylvain from speaking. Hubert tried to write off Ferdinand’s fall in battle as just another casualty of war. He kept his normally stern face, even in front of Her Majesty, but the pain of losing him was too much to bear, his nights having grown so cold, so lonely in his absence. How could Gautier have known they had grown so close?

“Enough from you,” he spat, watching as Sylvain’s face went from pink to red to purple. He released his hold before Sylvain could lose consciousness, the other man coughing and gagging, trying to catch his breath again.

“So that’s…why you grabbed me. You need…a replacement ginger…” Sylvain continued to gasp, but kept it up, the ire rising in Hubert with each word that spewed from his mouth. “Glad you two…finally fucked, but…”

Hubert stood above him, shoving his thumbs into the corners of Sylvain mouth and tilting his neck back. “I said, that’s enough.” The air beside his hands started to churn with a dark purple hue, until Sylvain bit down and Hubert snatched his hands back, the spell dissipating in the air.

“Look,” he said, through one more cough. “I know you’re upset about losing him, but if you want information, you’re gonna have to let me talk.”

“Then say something worth saying!”

“Make me.”

Hubert had to regain his composure, had to focus on the true purpose of having Sylvain tied up in his room. Information. And the best way to coax it out of him. He settled back onto Sylvain’s lap, straddling him. He reached into his pants and grabbed his flaccid cock unceremoniously. “I suppose I’ll have to get you hard first.”

“Yes, Hubert, that’s generally how this works.”

He squeezed and Sylvain cried out, rocking the chair as he reeled back in pain.

“Not like that! Sweet Seiros.”

“She won’t save you here,” Hubert said, loosening his hold and stirring up Sylvain’s cock with teasing strokes. He was much larger than Hubert had imagined, limp as he was, but eventually, he could rise him at full attention. Hubert always had an excellent way of affecting Ferdinand in such a way…

His lip quivered, the rage from earlier rising in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes, trying to push the thoughts aside, and continued to stroke Sylvain’s dick erect.

Sylvain tilted his neck to the side, exposing this skin. “Get into it, man, I won’t get hard just from that.”

Hubert mumbled under his breath, but abided, sinking his teeth into Sylvain’s neck and sucking hard, his fingers still at work. Eventually, with enough kissing and biting down his neck, Sylvain’s dick was throbbing hard in Hubert’s hand.

“Nicely done. Now what will you do?”

Hubert needed to gain back control of the situation, that much was clear. So far, he had played into each and every one of Sylvain’s tricks, letting Ferdinand’s death get the better of him, following his lead. So he smirked and leaned in, pressing his chest up against Sylvain’s, his fingers gently tapping up the length his dick to play at his head.

“Only speak when you have information,” he said, shoving two fingers deep into his mouth while his other hand thumbed at Sylvain’s foreskin.

A light moan rounded on Hubert’s fingers, the small vibrations running through his hands, down his spine, and settling in his groin. He gasped in return, grinding up against his hand on Sylvain’s dick, only holding back when he remembered the situation. He fucked his fingers deeper into Sylvain’s mouth, only feeling slight discomfort as Sylvain licked at the rough fabric of his glove.

He lifted his hand from Sylvain’s pants, biting at the tip of his finger and pulling off one glove with his teeth. A small bit of precum had stained the fabric, and licked up the odd sweetness of Sylvain before returning his hand to the supple, velvet feel of his cock.

“Tell me,” he said in a devious whisper, his nose nearly pressed against Sylvain’s, “the source of your supply chain.” He ripped his hand from Sylvain’s mouth and also pulled that glove off with his teeth. He nudged his thumb right up against Sylvain foreskin, slipping up to tease at the slit and coating his thumb in hot fluid.

Sylvain tilted his head back in a moan, his hips twitching furiously against his restraints. He was close, but he wouldn’t get a release until Hubert got information. With a firm squeeze around the head of his cock, Hubert let go, both hands now running through Sylvain’s hair.

“Not…fair,” he gasped out, trying to grind up against Hubert.

“The supply chain, Gautier?”

“Just let me come already!”

Hubert laughed, low and sadistic, as he tapped Sylvain’s nose with a finger. “Remember that you’re here for information.” With a soft grind up against Sylvain’s cock, Hubert reveled in the sounds coming from him, but not completely satisfied just yet.

“F-fuck,” he groaned.

Hubert returned a hand, reaching low to cup Sylvain’s balls in his palm, his fingers rolling over the delicate flesh, and his thumb rubbing deep at the base of his cock.

Sylvain’s hips tried to hitch up, desperate for release, his mouth lolling open, heaving dry breaths out.

It was a shame all the water had gone to his chest, but Hubert wouldn’t mind tasting that tongue again. He leaned down, one hand still firmly gripped in Sylvain’s hair, coarser than he would have thought, tilting his neck back to entirely consume him. His lips were still dry, but now Hubert could slick them up with his own tongue, swallowing down every moan jutting out from Sylvain.

There was a curious scent that filled the room, but it did little to tamp down the musk that filled up Hubert’s lungs. He continued to tease at Sylvain’s balls, giving just enough pressure, and diving his tongue deeper into Sylvain’s mouth.

He felt strong, firm hands against his arms and responded with a grind up against Sylvain’s dick, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him that something was going wrong.

The hands gripped tighter and pushed Hubert back until he toppled over onto his bed. He stared in horror and awe as Sylvain now stood above him, the ropes that once tied him slipping off his body, the blindfold fluttering to the ground behind him, and small flames igniting from his fingertips.

“Y-you…”

Sylvain blew out each tiny flame and grabbed a piece of the rope falling from his chest, one of the ends blackened and burnt. He silenced Hubert with his mouth, regaining his control, and tied up his hands above his head and around one of the bedposts. Once he was all good and tight, Sylvain broke free, a small trail of spit between their mouth, coating his once dry lips. “Didn’t expect me to know any reason magic, did you?”

Hubert tried to fight back against the bindings, but his eyes were stuck on the image before him; Sylvain’s cock, hard and dripping, spilling out of the front of his small clothes. His own body throbbed in response and he cried out when Sylvain gripped him tight, fingers working diligently to undo the buttons and clasps of his trousers.

“The source of our supply chain, right? That’s what you want to know?” Sylvain’s low voice rumbled around Hubert’s now freed cock and a pulse shot up his spine. He placed an uncharacteristically gentle kiss at the head of Hubert’s cock before taking it in, swirling his tongue around, licking up the budding precum sputtering from it.

Hubert felt his toes go numb, curling them up in his boots, his legs thrashing at Sylvain’s sides, trying not to thrust into his mouth deeper, despite how much he wanted to feel his mouth hot and wet around his cock.

Sylvain’s hands gripped at Hubert’s hips, keeping him steady as he rocked over him, curling his lips around his length as a slowly bobbed his head up and down. Hubert nearly came at the sensation of his cock hitting the roof of Sylvain’s mouth, the slick ridges rubbing over his tip.

His head tilted back, spying the intricate knot Sylvain managed to tie in what seemed like no time at all. The tighter he pulled, the tighter the ropes became, and he could feel his fingers tingle with the oncoming numbness. He glanced back down and watched as dark red tresses bounced on Sylvain’s, and eventually, Sylvain returned his gaze. With a wink, he took all of Hubert’s length into his mouth and the mere sight caused Hubert to buckle under the pressure, coming down Sylvain’s throat in long, hot droves as he cried out, pulling tighter against the ropes.

Sylvain sucked him to completion and lifted up, cum dripping down his chin. He smirked and crawled up Hubert’s body until his still hard dick rubbed up against Hubert’s, now weak and throbbing numb.

“You made a good effort, Hubie,” he said, licking up along Hubert’s cheekbone, leaving behind a trail of spit and spend. He licked his lips and stood up from the bed, tucking himself back into his pants and grabbing an important looking ring of keys from Hubert’s desk. “See you on the battlefield.”

Sylvain disappeared out the door, and Hubert meekly wondered if he would make it out of Enbarr alive.

No. Hubert’s lip curled up, the bits of seed on his face dripping down to the pillow below. He had no doubt Sylvain would make it out of Enbarr, much to his burning dismay.

“See you on the battlefield, indeed…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I'm also working on a similar fic with a not-dead!Ferdie so Hubert can have _two_ gingers at once. Stay tuned.
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thnkurluckystar) if you'd like to say hi!!


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